25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Annaliese
C olt’s lips brush against the sensitive skin behind my ear, his hands curling around my waist as we shuffle down the darkened hallway to his bedroom.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
I smile into the black space, reaching a hand up and around to grip the back of his neck. “Once or twice, maybe.” But I’ll never get sick of it.
His hands move from my waist to my back, fingertips trailing the zipper that falls down along my spine. The bodice of my dress loosens as he drags the fastener down, the cool air of his condo hitting my bare skin.
I let the fabric fall off my shoulders to land in the crook of my elbow before shimmying it down my hips. The dress hits the wooden floor as soon as we meet the threshold of his bedroom, leaving me in just my thong, thigh-highs, and heels.
“Fuck me,” Colt groans. And when I spin to catch his reaction, he’s paused at the doorway with his eyes drawn to my lower body, bottom lip hanging open in surprise.
“You like?” I tease, slowly spinning around so he can have a second look. The grunt he releases when he notices the little bowtie on the back of my underwear has me clenching my legs together.
I stalk toward him, reaching for him, wanting to rip off his suit jacket and tie. But when I raise my hands to start, he stills them.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he rasps, his palm curling around the back of my head to pull me into him. “You want to play, baby? I’m ready to play.”
He nods to the bed, gesturing for me to move. “Sit.”
I do as he asks, leaning back on my palms to watch as he undresses himself.
He carefully removes his jacket, folding it in half before laying it across an armchair. He curls his pointer finger in the knot of his tie, moving it side to side before it comes loose. I expect him to lay it on top of his jacket, but instead he tosses it to me, the silk landing on my lap in surprise. “We’re not done with that.”
Heat blooms in my core, and I reach for the tie, running the silk through my fingers as he removes his button-up and pants. He moves to stand in front of me in just his tight black briefs, and his palm reaches out, fingers clasping around my jaw to tilt my face up to his.
“Do you trust me?”
Trust isn’t something I give lightly. I can name on one hand the number of people in my life that I hold closely, and even some of them have tested my trust. I’ve lost friendships and forgiven family members even when they don’t deserve it.
I’ve spent most of my adult life not letting people get too close. Part of the allure of my residency in Africa was that I could help hundreds. I could play a part in someone's life and have a meaningful connection knowing that our time was limited. I made friends without having to forge a deep-rooted commitment.
At one point, that was all I needed to be happy. But maybe that’s because I hadn’t met someone like Colt. Someone who has his own demons, who I would look at and say, yeah, I get why he’s an ass. I get why he’s closed off. I get why he chooses to spend his time with nameless girls he meets at the bar as opposed to a long-term relationship.
But he’s shown me there’s more to him than that. He cares about me. He worries about me. He goes out of his way to let me know that I matter. Because of that, I trust him the most out of anyone in this world.
And more than that, I believe that he trusts me, too.
“Yes, I trust you.”
He smiles a beautiful, wholesome smile before leaning down to kiss me. “Good,” he murmurs against my lips. “Lie on your back and grab the headboard, baby.”
Chills erupt on my body, and I do as he says, scooting back on the bed until I’m lying in the center with my head resting on the pillows. I raise my arms above my head, curling my palms around the slats in the headboard, and I wait.
He stalks over to me, kneeling on the bed to swing a leg over my waist. He doesn’t lower himself on me, but holds himself in place as he wraps the silk necktie around my wrists. He loops it through the wooden slats, tying it around itself, and once he’s confident the knot is secure, he gives it a firm tug. “That feel alright?”
I rub my legs together, nearly salivating with the need to have him touch me. Yeah, it’s definitely alright, Colt.
“Yeah,” I whisper, my throat suddenly feeling dry.
He smirks and leans back on his haunches to look at me, his face showing he’s pleased with what he sees. “Look at you,” he rasps, running a hand up my side to curl over my breast. “So fucking perfect, all tied up and waiting for me.” He flicks a nipple with his thumb, and I whimper, trying to wiggle to the side, but I can’t with my arms tied.
He moves down my body, and I expect him to settle between my thighs, but he pauses mid-way. He props himself up on an elbow and uses his free hand to roam my body.
With the tip of his finger and the gentlest touch, he traces invisible lines across my stomach and up between my breasts, barely brushing across a nipple on his way back down.
The act is so gentle, so delicate, it has goosebumps erupting all over my body. My instinct is to arch into his touch, to meet him where he’s at and beg him for more, but every time my body wiggles, he lifts his finger.
“Not so fast, Sparky,” he rasps. “I want to memorize you, know you. I want to be able to shut my eyes six months from now and picture every freckle, every scar, everything that makes you, you.”
My throat clogs with the meaning behind those words. When I’m not here. When I’m overseas. When the finality of our relationship is in the air, he still wants to remember me.
So I lie still, watching the expressions morph on his face as he does just that. With his hands and mouth, he dances across every curve of my body. He manages to find the smallest pinpoint scars that pepper parts of my body from insulin shots, pumps, and sensors, kissing each one, a reminder that he knows the most fragile parts of me.
His movements become more frantic, tongue darting out to suck on my skin and when he pulls a peaked nipple into his mouth, I cry out.
“Colt,” I whine, arching my back to give him more of me. “I want you, I need you.”
He chuckles, throaty and heady against my skin as he finally shuffles down to lie between my legs. His hands clasp the back of my thighs, pushing them up and spreading me wide. “What do you need, sweetheart? You need me to lick this pretty cunt? You need me to remind you that no one will ever fuck you the way I fuck you?”
I throw my head back against the pillow, nearly thrashing back and forth. Yes. My God, yes , I want that. Just like he wants to be able to close his eyes and remember me, I want to be able to close my eyes and only think of him. I want to replay our nights together when I’m alone and needing a fix.
“Yes,” I whine. “Lick me, fuck me, break me.”
His head snaps up at my last request, and an unreadable expression glimmers in his eyes. “I could never break you, sweetheart. Hell, I don’t want to. I want to make you come so hard it puts all of the broken parts back together.”
I swallow thickly, not breaking eye contact through his promises. “Then do it,” I whisper. “Show me what that feels like. Mark me as yours, Colt.”
Colt moves swiftly, rising up on his knees to lean back, hands coming to tug my underwear down. He shimmies them off my body and tosses them somewhere behind him. I expect him to go for my heels and my thigh-highs, but instead he runs a palm from my ankle all the way up my leg, fingertips swiping across the lace band along my thigh.
“I want to feel your heels digging into me, understand?”
Yes. Sir.
He settles again between my legs, thighs pulled up over his shoulders, and he stares at me. At the barest, most intimate part of me. He slowly spreads my lips with his finger, tracing me up, down, around, and I realize he’s also memorizing this part of me.
That thought has my mouth salivating, and I spread my legs further, hearing Colt release a satisfied moan.
His tongue takes the place of his hands, and my eyes roll back in my head. He’s too good. He makes it look too easy to find that spot. He knows where to swirl his tongue and where to suck. He knows my body, and every time I release a breathy moan, it’s like he catalogues it and remembers to return to that exact spot.
I rub myself against his face, feeling the heat rising in my chest and he’s barely begun. My hands tug at the knots above me, instinct urging me to run my hands through his hair and force his face against me. When he hears the tugging of the headboard, he chuckles, and I feel the breath against my thigh.
“I see my girl is getting a little squirmy.” His teeth find the skin of my inner thigh, nipping hard, and I hiss. He soothes the bite mark with his tongue, repeating the act over and over until I practically have him in a leglock.
“Colt,” I whine, wiggling back and forth to force his mouth back to the spot where I so desperately need him. I’m on the edge of combustion; my body is screaming for a release, and he just chuckles.
He pulls away, leaning back on his knees and my eyes fly open. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I whine, spreading my legs again. “Colt…”
His hands come to grip my hips, fingertips so firm I hope he leaves bruises. And in one quick motion he flips me over. I cry out, belly flipping with the move. He adjusts my hands, which are still tied to the headboard, and ushers me onto my elbows and knees, my ass pointed up directly in his face.
He taps the sides of my knees, and I widen my stance. I expect to feel the tip of his cock press up against me, but instead the weight on the mattress shifts, and I feel his face slide between my legs.
My body is already trembling, both from how badly I’m turned on and the position, and I feel myself weakening.
But to Colt, that seems like it was his plan all along. With his face right against my pussy, his tongue darts out to lick me once more. I scream, body twitching, and I pull back.
“Sit on my face, Annaliese,” he commands, and I lean down a little.
“I … Will that hurt you?”
He chuckles, and I can feel his hot breath against my wet skin. His hands come up to squeeze my ass, grip tightening. “I said, sit.” With a firm tug he pulls me down, all the way down, and I cry out when he opens his mouth.
I’m completely at his mercy, unable to move, to pull away, to do anything but give in to Colt and his wicked tongue.
And I’m starting to think that’s exactly what he wanted.
He devours me, groaning at the act as much as I am. His tongue takes on a mind of its own as his hands wander, smoothing along my ass, to my hips, to my thighs, before his fingertips dance dangerously close to a hole that’s still marked virgin territory.
“Colt,” I scold, and he laughs.
“Not tonight, baby. But some day. I’m going to take you in every hole you have.”
He adjusts his hands so one slides between my legs, up where his mouth is, and I feel the change of pressure as he dips a finger inside me.
I rock against his hand as he works his finger in slow circles. He stretches me, stuffing another finger inside as he sucks my clit between his teeth. And when he pulls his fingers out, moving them forward to slap my pussy, I cry out. A shrill, obnoxious moan fills the room as my orgasm hits.
I let my body go limp, twitching around his hand and mouth as my orgasm wrecks me. I must pass out for a moment because the world around me is hazy. I can feel Colt move out from between my legs. He fumbles with the silk tie around my wrists, removing the knot and coaxing my body to the side.
He lies behind me, bringing my arms down to my sides as he squeezes my shoulders and biceps, massaging slowly as the blood flow returns to my aching muscles.
I nearly fall asleep in his touch, every cell in my body absolutely buzzed from whatever the fuck that just was. He plants soft kisses against my shoulder while brushing my hair away from my face to kiss my neck.
I slowly twist in his arms, and he helps my weak limbs move. Once I’m facing him, he continues to brush the hair away from my sweaty skin, and when my eyes focus, I can see the satisfied smirk on his face.
“Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you Dr. Andrews?”
His face splits in a grin, one of his rare, but painfully beautiful full-fledged grins, and my heart hammers in my chest.
“That was the hottest experience of my life, and it really had nothing to do with me. So yeah, I’m going to be proud of myself.”
I manage to push myself up with my hands to sit at his side. Spying the tie still laying on my pillow, I take it between my hands and run the silk through my fingers like I did in the bathroom earlier tonight.
A thought crosses my mind, and I look up at Colt. “I guess the real question is, how much do you trust me ?”